Page 98 of A Year at Appleyard Farm
‘I can see we’re going to have a scintillating conversation,’ she said drily, rather enjoying watching him squirm a little. ‘An interesting collection of words.’
‘It was all I had time for,’ he admitted. ‘But I can learn more.’
A faint tingle of alarm began to sound in Laura’s head. She was touched that he had even tried to learn her language, but she didn’t want to encourage him. She could understand him perfectly well as it was.
‘Stephen, why are you here?’ she asked. ‘It’s very kind of you to learn a few words of sign language, but there’s really no need, I can manage.’
Stephen seemed to examine her doormat for some considerable time before he spoke again.
‘I wanted to see if you were okay, after what happened the other day. Apart from throwing you to the ground, I was very rude and obviously upset you. I didn’t intend to.’
Laura had replayed their encounter over and over again in her head, and was rather ashamed of her own behaviour too, although she didn’t want to admit it to him.
‘It was the shock I expect,’ she replied. ‘I wasn’t at my best either, so perhaps we should forget it ever happened. No harm done as it were.’
Stephen’s face clouded immediately. ‘Under normal circumstances, I would agree, but it might not be possible I’m afraid…Look, can I come in, there’s something else I need to discuss with you.’
His manner had gone from relatively relaxed, albeit in a rather nervous kind of way, to pompously formal in a matter of moments, and although part of her felt intrigued, for the most part, Laura was wary. What on earth could Stephen want with her? Against her better judgement, she stepped to one side.
‘We’ll go in the kitchen,’ she said.
Boris stood up the moment Stephen entered the room, crossing to Laura’s side where he stood in front of her like a hairy protective shield. It had the desired effect; Stephen stopped dead, hovering in the doorway unwilling to go any further.
‘What’s that matter with you? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a big dog?’ she mocked, hands on her hips.
‘Only ones that growl like that,’ replied Stephen, trying to keep his face towards Laura, but with one eye on the dog. ‘I’m just wondering if there’s a bite on the end of it.’
Laura dropped to her knees in front of Boris so that she was on a level with his nose. ‘Did you growl at the nasty man?’ she cooed, putting her arms around the dog’s neck. ‘I know he pushed me over, but you can let him in okay, you don’t have to eat him.’
She stood up again, waving an airy hand at Stephen. ‘Go and make friends, Boris,’ she said.
Stephen took several steps backwards as the dog covered the distance between them in an instant, thrusting its wet nose into the crotch of his jeans, before licking his hand.
‘I suppose you enjoyed that?’ Stephen remarked, trying to extricate himself.
‘Of course…although in all seriousness, he was just trying to protect me,’ she added, trying to soften the blow to Stephen’s pride. ‘He’ll be fine now. Just come on in and have a seat. I’ll make some coffee, shall I?’
Stephen nodded. ‘No sugar, thanks.’
She turned her back, reaching for a couple of mugs, and adding coffee to both. She was trying to decide what to say next and by keeping her back to Stephen, she knew she was effectively forestalling any more conversation until she was ready to speak. He probably deserved an apology for her behaviour the other day; he also deserved her thanks. She was well aware that being thrown in the bushes was a small price to pay for not being run over, but she really didn’t want to make a big deal of it. It was bad enough that he was here at all. She certainly didn’t want him to visit again.
The coffee made, she had no further excuse to keep her back to Stephen, and she turned round, expecting to see him waiting patiently at the table. Instead, he was on the other side of the room, inspecting a garland she had made a couple of days earlier and hung in her favourite spot on the wall facing the doorway. The morning sun had picked out the stems of Honesty, like slivers of silver. He held out a hand to touch one of them while she watched.
He turned to look for her, wanting to speak, and dropped his gaze in embarrassment when he realised she was staring at him. She could see his lips start to move.
‘I can’t tell what you’re saying if your head is down,’ she said gently, blushing slightly as he also coloured.
His head jerked up again. ‘I’m sorry…I didn’t think, this is harder than…But this is beautiful,’ he said. ‘I wanted to tell you. Especially this,’ he added, reaching out to touch the seeds once more. ‘What’s it called?’
‘Honesty,’ answered Laura.
Stephen swallowed. ‘Oh,’ was all he managed.
Laura waved the mugs slightly, moving back to the table and sitting down. She waited for Stephen to do the same. She was about to speak when he leaned forward to touch her hand.
‘You made that, didn’t you,’ he said. ‘It’s what you do.’ He rubbed a hand across his mouth that was creasing into a smile. ‘I should probably explain how I know that as well shouldn’t I, before you think I’m some sort of psychic nutter. My future sister-in-law mentioned that she’d met you, and that you’re going to help with her wedding flowers…’ He looked at her apologetically. ‘I have a bit of an unfair advantage, don’t I, especially since we’ve never been properly introduced, but—’
‘I know your name’s Stephen,’ interrupted Laura.
